Shinigami Awakens
by GWSYREN
Summary: Duo finds that eveybody has a dark side. His is just a little darker than most...


Shinigami Awakens   
By  
GWSYREN  
  
  
I raced home, anxious to get there before the other guys. They had been gone on a mission for the last few weeks, and I had had the place all alone to myself. Needless to say, it was an absoulute mess. I'm called The Great Destroyer for a reason, and that's because I destroy things. Now, don't get me wrong, I like order every once in a while, like a perfectly piled sandwhich, or neatly pressed clothing, but cleaning up after myself is not high on my list of favorites.   
I kept looking around and saying, "Oh, I'll do it tomorrow," with tomorrow never coming. Well, now it was today, with no tomorrows left with which to procrastinate. And now I had to get my ass in gear and get the apartment clean before they got back.  
After a mission, even Quatre was likely to be in a bad mood, with Heero in the worst one. He had threatened to kill me if the place wasn't clean when they got back, and with the way he looked at me when he said that, I knew he was serious.   
Rooming with him wasn't so bad, but after we would get back from a grueling battle, we'd all go back to our rooms: Quatre and Trowa to theirs(I finally figured out why they always asked to room together), Wufei to his, and Heero and I to ours. Being a very sound sleeper, I figured that Heero and I would make good roomates. He was always quiet, and I valued my rest. Perfect combo. So whenever there was a need, we roomed together.  
I always went through my nightly routine, every night it was the same, unchanging: I'd take a shower, wash my hair and brush my teeth, get dressed for bed, and comb and braid my hair before I left the bathroom. It all usually took about an hour and a half (doing your own braid, even after years of practice, is still kinda hard). Heero took about fifteen seconds for all of his nightly preperations, so he got the bathroom first. Which eventually led to the start of the most... interesting period in all our lives. But I'm getting off my subject. Anyway, Heero has never seen me with my hair down, I don't think, and I'd never seen him without those disgusting spandex shorts of his. They're always clean, but man, those things must chafe. Well, anyway, one night all this changed. I did my normal routine, and walked out of the bathroom to discover Heero on my bed.  
Naked.  
Wearing absolutely nothing. Not one stitch of clothing. His back was to me, and he was looking out the window at the rain that was coming down in torrents outside. One of the few bad things about earth is the rain. I just stared at him silently. I noticed that his back was very well muscled, but I shook that thought from my head almost before it had formed.  
"What are you doing?" I was dismayed to realize that my voice was scratchy. Why was that?  
"Have you ever watched the rain? It looks like tears." He hadn't turned around, and for that I was grateful. Not only was he acting weird, but with the faint sunlight highlighting his face and body, he looked rather like an Angel. A fallen, dark Angel, but one none the less. And from the way I felt at the moment, drinking in the sight of him even though I was trying not to, he was the Demon in the garden, trying to corrupt me. And damn it, he was doing one hell of a job. Satan would be both proud and jealous  
"Uh, no. I don't like the rain. It's wet." He laughed softly. I started in suprise. I'd never heard him laugh before. It was a nice laugh, rich and velvety, like his voice.  
"That's too bad. I think it's comforting. Soft and steady. I've never seen real rain before." I decided to talk to him about the real reason I didn't like the rain.  
"I have. It was a long time ago, before I became a Gundam pilot. Solo and I snuck on to a passenger shuttle and came down here. It was raining when we arrived. About a week later, we were back home, and Solo was dead. I never liked the rain much after that." Wouldn't ya know, guilt by association. How ironic. Heero turned and looked at me then. My breath caught in my throat. Why was this having such an odd effect on me? His eyes were full of pity, but his face remained as neutral as it always was. He stood up, and my face turned beet red. Did he remember that he was nude? I was all too aware of that fact, and I turned away quickly before it showed. Why was I acting this way? I didn't go for guys, especially not Mr. I'm-going-to kill-you-because-I'm-the-perfect-soldier-and-I've-got-a-bigger-stick-shoved-up-my-ass-than-you-do Yuy. So: why?   
I heard him moving, and thought that he was going to bed, and I'd be off the hook. I jumped when I felt his arms encircle my waist, and I instinctively stiffened as I heard him whisper softly in my ear.  
"We can watch the rain together." He said. I pushed him away from me, not really wanting to, but doing so anyway.  
"What the hell is going on!?" I exploded. "What is wrong with you? I-I don't know what you're doing, but it's not funny. Wait... Are you drunk? That would explane so-murmph!" My sentance was cut short as he captured my mouth in a warm kiss. It was very pleasant, and I was thinking of responding when he shoved me away from him sharply. I stumbled as the backs of my knees came in contact with my bed, which I fell upon.   
"Hey!" I exclaimed, but he ignored me as he crawled into his bed . In the moonlight, it looked like tears were streaking down his cheeks, but a few moments later, he turned his back towards me, and I figured it must have been a trick of the moonlight. I lay awake the rest of the night, thinking about him, and if I didn't know better, I'd swear he was dreaming of me. *****  
The next day was a living hell for all of us, Quatre in particular. He and Trowa had had a fight the night before (I thought all that noise was just them messing around. Silly me.), and now Trowa was giving the poor guy the cold shoulder. Every time I saw Quatre that day, he looked like he was about to burst into tears. I was starting to get a headache later on in the afternoon, when the blonde lovesick and heartbroken pup caught up with me.  
"Hey, Duo? Can I talk to you for a second?" He asked me, looking as if he were expecting to be rejected. And he probably was. My stomache burbled, so I said,  
"Yeah, sure, long as you fix me some lunch, I'll talk to ya long as you want me to." His face broke into a radiant smile that lit up the room. God, what a smile. Trowa was a fool to risk losing such a person. And Quatre, even if you just frowned, was likely to feel guilty. This must have been killing him. I sat at the table and watched him as he started to fix some sandwiches for us. My headache was becoming worse, and I was starting to feel sort of dizzy, but I'm not the sort to pass up a free lunch, so I simply ignored it. Big mistake on my part, but we'll get to that later.  
"Duo, what's going on with you and Heero?" He asked as he sat down. I blushed furiously. Was I that obvious? Guess so. He smiled at me understandingly, and took a bite out of his sandwich.  
"Uh... nothing. Why?" I was starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable, both with the direction of our conversation, and with the incresing intesity of my headache. The room was spinning, and I needed to get out of there. Now. Before he could answer, I broke in.  
"Listen, Quatre, can we continue this discussion later? I don't feel very good; I'm going up to my room to sleep. Okay?" Quatre looked at me in concern.  
"Will you be alright?" I nodded, even though I knew I was lying.  
"Yeah. Just call me down in the morning. Thanks." I stumbled slightly as I got out of my chair, but he didn't notice.  
The climb up the stairs to my room was the longest one I've ever had to make. Even after visiting my friend Mr. Whiskey, and coming home the next morning with a major record-breaking hang-over held nothing in comparison. Those were some of the most anguishing seconds in my life, up there with the deaths of Solo, Sister Helen, and Father Maxwell.  
The second I crashed, everything went black, and I was floating in fuzzy blackness. I don't know how blackness can be fuzzy, but that's the only way to descibe it: soft and comforting; Fuzzy. I was pushed into the back of my own mind, past all the dust and cobwebs, into a little room, complete with an oak table and recliners. In one of the chairs sat a young man who looked a lot like me, except for a few small differences. Such as, his hair wasn't in a braid, was longer and more red than mine, and curly. His eyes were more purple than blue, in fact, they were violet. His full mouth turned into a slow, crooked grin. My grin. He was me. And yet not me at the same time. Who...? He looked at me through his long dark lashes coyly, and gestured to me to take a seat across from him. I didn't sit. His smile faded for a moment, than came back.  
"Please, Duo, don't be rude. Is that any to treat me? I asked you to be seated." His voice was mine as well, with a slight accent that I couldn't place. His eyes became cold as marble, yet he kept his, no, my smile. I felt something forcing me to sit. I fought, but it did me no good. As soon as I was seated, he began to talk anew.  
"Who are you?" I choked. My battle with the power that held me in my seat had left me tired and weak.   
"Why, You don't have a single clue who I am?" Suprise tinged his voice. I shook my head no. He sighed and leaned forward, steepling his fingers under his chin.  
"Well, that makes it harder for me to explaine."  
"Why?" He scowled at me in annoyance.  
"Do you ever shut up? No, wait, don't answer: You don't. Well, I might as well cut the chase. You see, Duo, I'm Shinigami, and I'm here to make you a deal you can't refuse."  



End file.
